


Remember When

by timkons



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Canon Compliant, Developing Relationship, Friends to Lovers, Friendship/Love, M/M, Memories, Mutual Pining, Pre-Canon, Slow Burn, Snapshots
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-06
Updated: 2017-04-06
Packaged: 2018-10-15 08:25:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10553194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/timkons/pseuds/timkons
Summary: The first thing Akaashi says is, "hello," followed by, "my name is Akaashi Keiji," and, "is this where the volleyball orientation is being held?" Bokuto knows because he has a good memory, especially when it comes to Akaashi, and he wouldn't forget a thing like that. He may only be a second-year - technically a first-year since he's barely a week into being an upperclassman - but Bokuto's determined to have somebody call him, 'senpai,' and if luck is on his side, maybe this will be a young wing spiker who can take over the team when he graduates. As it turns out, only half of that dream comes true.





	

The last thing Akaashi says is, "Good luck, Bokuto-san," after a long pause of neither one of them knowing what to say.

Bokuto opens his mouth, and he's about to say something like, 'I'm great! You don't have to wish me that!' or 'I miss you already!' or 'you'll set for me sometime, won't you?' but he clamps his mouth shut and smiles instead. Bokuto nods at his underclassman, who smiles back with tears welling in his eyes. Akaashi turns away before Bokuto sees the tears fall.

-

The first thing Akaashi says is, "hello," followed by, "my name is Akaashi Keiji," and, "is this where the volleyball orientation is being held?" Bokuto knows because he has a good memory, especially when it comes to Akaashi, and he wouldn't forget a thing like that. He may only be a second-year - technically a first-year since he's barely a week into being an upperclassman - but Bokuto's determined to have somebody call him, 'senpai,' and if luck is on his side, maybe this will be a young wing spiker who can take over the team when he graduates. As it turns out, only half of that dream comes true.

"Yes it is! I'm the ace and vice-captain. Call me senpai!" Bokuto boasts, puffing out his chest and placing both palms on his hips so that his pecs bulge out. Bokuto doesn't remember them being bulging, but Akaashi says they were, so that's how he remembers them, exaggeratedly pushed out as if he were a bodybuilder or an upside down Dorito.

"This is _Bokuto_ ," their captain, a third-year, corrects, placing a palm on Bokuto's head and ruffling his hair. If Bokuto was as tall as he'd been in his third-year, Bokuto would have fought him off, but back then, his captain of two years lumbered over him. "But he's not wrong; this is where orientation is being held and he is the vice-captain."

Bokuto's about to squawk back how their captain completely missed the point of him being the ace now that the only wing spiker who could rival him has graduated - and, more importantly, Bokuto's _awesome_  ace - but his captain yanks on his hair like an older brother might, smirking, and pulls away to introduce himself to Akaashi, extending a hand. "And I guess he's not wrong about that ace part either. He's our star wing spiker, you see."

"I see," Akaashi says. Bokuto doesn't remember anything after that because he can only recall the blood-rushing excitement of playing against new players and the sweat that eventually caked under his nails after hours of testing the newbies. He remembers telling the incoming players about going to Nationals last year and how they're going to get even farther this year and how Bokuto hopes there's really strong opponents this year but how he still wants to beat them. He remembers asking Akaashi, "what position do you play?" and Akaashi replying back, "setter." He remembers asking Akaashi, "can you set some balls for me? Crosses are what I'm known for and I'm gonna them so great they blast right through every blocker!" But mostly, Bokuto remembers emerald eyes narrowing and long fingers setting volleyballs more perfectly than any other ball Bokuto's ever spiked before. He remembers whooping loudly, telling Akaashi that they're going to make the best team Fukuroudani has ever seen.

-

"One more!" Bokuto shouts, tossing the ball at Akaashi without waiting for a response before leaping up to hit the ball where it's set to the perfect height. He spikes it while releasing a loud roar. Twice. Three times. Four times.

"Bokuto," their captain says, "we haven't even started the season properly yet. Go easy on the new meat and give him time to adjust."

"I can handle it," is all Akaashi says, setting the ball once again before Bokuto can call out for it.

-

As it turns out, Akaashi ends up collapsing twenty minutes later. Everybody else on the team says that Akaashi did not in fact collapsed and that what _really_ happened was that Akaashi became tired and decided to stop for the day, realizing it would be best to rest and drink water, but if you ask Bokuto, Akaashi blacked out, dramatically fell to the ground, and would probably have sustained a concussion if not for his handsome upperclassman diving in to protect him from hitting his head on the ground.

"'Handsome?' Really, Bokuto-san?"

"A _kaaaaaa_ shi! Don't interrupt me when I'm telling the newbies about the first time we practiced together!"

-

Bokuto takes it upon himself to introduce Akaashi to Fukuroudani Academy. The team captain did the same for him last year, and now that he's vice-captain, he knows he'll be captain next year. It's only fair, Bokuto reasons, to treat his future vice-captain similarly, since Bokuto has no illusions that Akaashi will be the one by his side next year. ("Since when did you know, Bokuto-san?" "After the first time I hit your ball! You didn't feel it?")

After shooting a text to a contact with no name and only an owl, volleyball, and person raising both hands in celebration emoji ("It looks like you're setting to me, see?" "That's very cute, Bokuto-san. There's no spiking emoji, but I've put the victory sign emoji next to your name. I hope that's a suitable replacement." "You're the best, Akaashi!") to meet, Bokuto meets Akaashi outside the Fukuroudani Academy gates a half-hour earlier than class begins in order to acquaint Akaashi with the first-year routines and rooms.

"Come sit with me at lunch and I'll buy you an onigiri like the cool senpai I am!"

Bokuto's offer is even better than his captain's, who only offered him a drink from the vending machine, and he knows he's won Akaashi over when he says, "I would like that a lot, Bokuto-san."

-

"Akaashi!" Bokuto says brightly after practice, practically bouncing toward the new player like an overgrown rabbit. His hands in the air kind of look like rabbit ears, and his long kneepads don't help with the look. "Set to me some more!"

"You don't have to do it," Komi says casually as he passes by the two, making his way toward the lockers. "Bokuto's stamina is endless. If you don't run away now, he'll make you practice for hours on end."

"I want to," Akaashi says. Komi shrugs in that don't-say-I-didn't-warn-you way. Bokuto slaps Akaashi in the shoulder in thanks. Akaashi's fingers grip harder at the volleyball in his hands, eager to hear the slap of Bokuto's palm against it.

-

"We went to Nationals last year so we're seeded until the Tokyo representative qualifiers to make it fair. Oh, but you'll still get to play! We have practice matches within the Fukuroudani Academy Group and graduated members, and every summer we hold a training camp at Shinzen," Bokuto explains. He's taken it upon himself to guide Akaashi through the ropes, even though he's not a wing spiker. There's no new wing spikers among the first-years, so Akaashi is the closest he gets to a disciple, or so he's been calling Akaashi to the rest of the team. "This year we're going to be stronger than ever. It's damn annoying how everybody keeps blocking my spikes so I have to make them even stronger!"

Akaashi prepares to toss Bokuto the ball, but he stops and holds it to his chest instead, looking at it with contemplation. "Perhaps strength isn't all that's lacking."

"Lacking!? You saying my spikes suck?"

Before Bokuto can yell a tirade against Akaashi's insult, Akaashi continues calmly, "they're expecting your spikes to be stronger this year, aren't they? Perhaps what you're lacking is a new technique, something they aren't expecting."

When Bokuto's expression remains unchanging and tentatively, Akaashi holds his breath and continues, "something unexpected...and powerful."

"Akaashi," Bokuto says deeply, tone just a hint below insulted. Akaashi's eyes widen but instead of any outburst of anger, Bokuto smiles widely. "I think you're exactly what I've been lacking all this time! You're gonna make me even _more_  awesome!"

Akaashi hums, but before Bokuto can figure out if that's a good or bad thing, Akaashi immediately sets the ball without prompting. "If you really want to be the best, then don't waste any time."

-

Bokuto sucks at straights.

"It's looking better," Akaashi says after an hour of practicing nothing but straights. Washio's already called it a night by then and it's not much fun to spike without a blocker, but Bokuto grins and declares one more hour of training. Akaashi's eyes narrow as he grins. "I'd be glad to, Bokuto-san."

-

Two weeks later, Bokuto still sucks at straights, but he sucks a little less. Bokuto's not quite sure why, but he doesn't feel as self-conscious about his straights anymore. Maybe it's because a few fly past the middle blockers now. Maybe it's the way Akaashi grins whenever it breaks through Washio's block. Maybe it's the way Akaashi says, "keep it up, Bokuto-san."

-

Akaashi never once says he sucks at straights, and he sets for as long as Bokuto asks him to.

"That was perfect," Akaashi says breathlessly.

"Yeah? Yeah!?" He asks hopefully.

When Akaashi nods back, his eyes are clearly in awe, eyeing Bokuto like he's something special, like he's the ace, like he can't take his eyes off of Bokuto. In that moment, Bokuto hopes Akaashi never stops looking at him like that. "That was truly amazing."

Bokuto's lungs feel like they're on fire, his eyes are peeled back as far as they can go, and Bokuto's hands clench into fists. He pumps them into the air and lets out a howl of victory. "That felt _so_  good! Can we do that again?"

"With pleasure." This time, when Akaashi smiles, it looks a little closer to Bokuto's wide, carefree, and indulgent smile.

-

Despite their daily practice, Akaashi doesn't have the greatest stamina and he's not the strongest and Bokuto gets pissed off when Akaashi decides to dunk the ball instead of letting Bokuto hit it, but he makes the team better and that's enough for Bokuto.

"Your stamina is shit," Bokuto says with a smile, the third time Akaashi wheezes his way off the court. He doesn't say it in a mean way, and though Akaashi's eyes narrow as though he's insulted, he doesn't disagree or try to defend his lack of training. "Start jogging some more and build up your cardio!"

Akaashi's too exhausted to heave out a, "yes, Bokuto-san," when Bokuto claps him on the back. He nods and that's good enough for Bokuto; actions have always meant more to him than words anyway.

-

Still, by their annual summer training camp begins, Bokuto has full faith in Akaashi. He's the only one that calls out Akaashi's name in games so far, and he's the only one that leaps into the air when Akaashi calls his.

-

"The year hasn't even started and it's annoying how good your team is," Kuroo groans after the first day of training camp. He stretches backwards as if to crack his back like an old man.

Bokuto laughs heartily because he couldn't be prouder of Akaashi. He's the only first-year starting on their team, which mostly comprises of his cohort of second-years and two third-years. Kuroo doesn't have to single Akaashi out to realize that he's fundamentally changed their team for the better. "Your new setter is pretty good too! He wouldn't set for me when I asked, even though I said we were buddies..."

"Don't hold out for that," his friend laughs off, smirking as Bokuto's voice sinks into disappointment. Kuroo groans, now twisting from side-to-side to stretch out his arms. "Wanna ask that setter of yours to join us? I'll block for you."

Bokuto doesn't have to be asked twice, and before Bokuto can yell Akaashi's name throughout the gym, the first-year appears at his side. "I will set for you, Bokuto-san."

-

As it turns out, Kuroo blocks only two of his straights. Bokuto hoots and doesn't miss the way Akaashi smirks at the upperclassman of their opposing team when a spike zooms past his forearms.

-

Akaashi sees his dejected mode for the first time during the training camp. Bokuto feels more mixed up than usual, like a bottle of soda shaken up until the carbonation pops the lid off, soda spraying all over and an extra layer of guilt laying on top of his usual feelings of frustration and discouragement. Bokuto isn't an idiot; his team in middle-school made it clear he was difficult to work with, and though his team in high-school is more competitive and willing to work with him, they make no illusions about the fact working alongside Bokuto is no walk in the park.

Bokuto feels his shoulders shake and his eyebrows twitch. His lip curls in on itself and his cheeks and neck and forehead feel hot when he yells out, "don't toss to me anymore!"

Bokuto expects to hear the chorus of, "man up!" or "idiot!" or "do you want to get benched _again_?" but he hears nothing. After a tense, dramatic pause, complete with Bokuto posed in such a way to make it _clear_  that he has no intentions of hitting a ball tossed to him and earning more _awesome_  points for the team, he looks up. Akaashi's face is blank for what seems like three seconds. His eyes sharpen like that first day, and that's when Bokuto really starts to remember the look in Akaashi's eyes. If he had to say, this is the third kind of Akaashi's gaze, though he comes to know hundreds more in the following years. "Understood."

Bokuto's frustrated and pointedly refuses to spike the ball when Akaashi has the chance to set to him. He doesn't pretend to join in on any of the combos his team has been practicing. He doesn't dive for any balls that he knows he could otherwise hit. But for the first time since he entered high-school, he isn't benched for one of his mood swings.

-

Eight games later in a match against Nekoma, Bokuto slumps into his dejected mood again. This time Akaashi sets to him after the white noise stops ringing in Bokuto's ears and his breathing evens out. They still lose, but Bokuto isn't crying after the match, pleased to be the last one to hit the ball.

-

Even when Bokuto cries after practice matches they lose to rival teams, Akaashi doesn't laugh at him or say he should stop crying. Bokuto decides that's enough to trust him, and by the end of summer camp, their futons are pressed together and they eat side-by-side during every meal. Bokuto knows that Akaashi's favorite food is boiled rapeseed plants with karashi mustard dressing, and he learns that the words on Akaashi's favorite shirt say "Imagine how is touch the sky" in English. (And how cool is _that!?_ ) He's not impressed with the shirt Bokuto got from Nationals last year even though it's the _coolest_  thing ever, but Bokuto figures he has two more years to convince Akaashi just how cool it is.

As thanks, Bokuto steals Akaashi a flank of Kuroo's meat during the end-of-camp barbecue. Bokuto says nobody else can get the sweet-and-salty flavor that Kuroo grills quite right, and Akaashi agrees. For the first time in his life, Bokuto's heart soars more at the small admission of, "it's delicious," more than, "you're right."

-

"Hey, Akaashi," Bokuto whines, tugging on Akaashi's sleeve, "what's your most vivid memory of me from your first year?"

"That's a random question to ask," Akaashi says, noting how new it feels with Bokuto pulling at one of his favorite t-shirts instead of their old school uniform.

Bokuto is, of course, relentless, and leans his head on Akaashi's shoulder as well. Akaashi's already sweating from the humidity, and exactly 78.6 kilograms of pure muscle leaning on him doesn't help any. "C'mon, just tell me!"

Akaashi should have known it'd be futile to resist, and quite simply, he admits, "At the end of Shinzen."

"Oh?" That seems to catch Bokuto's attention, who pulls off, golden eyes sparkling in curiosity and delight. It makes Akaashi's insides squirm. "Were you impressed with my killer spike?"

"It wasn't that killer back then."

"Oh, come on and cut me some slack!" Akaashi's former captain yelps, and it eases the shifting, weightless feeling in his stomach.

"...It wasn't your spike."

"Then what was it?" Bokuto's tone sounds pouting now.

Akaashi glances at Bokuto, eyes narrowed, and a grin ghosts over his lips. "It was the first time I saw you with your hair down."

"You thought I looked that cool?" he chirps happily, practically skipping now.

Akaashi looks away. "I thought a stranger was trespassing on school property."

-

There's only two weeks left before the beginning of autumn term. While it is customary for Fukuroudani to begin training the first-years as soon as the school year starts, most of the other schools have kept their incoming starters secret as a tactic until the first tournament. Fukuroudani makes no illusions of their starting line-up, if only because they only have one new starting player and they're stronger with Akaashi anyway. Maybe this is what drives Bokuto to train every harder every day with Akaashi by his side; maybe it's something else entirely that he hasn't quite figured out.

"One more!" Bokuto calls.

"Please handle it!" Akaashi answers back.

Bokuto's heart pumps loudly in his ear, in part because his shoulder is sore and overworked after hours of practicing, in part because he and his setter already have a killer attack ready for the upcoming seasons. Nationals won't know _what_  hit them, he thinks to himself.

"No they won't," Akaashi agrees, eyes sparkling, which is the only reason why Bokuto realizes he said that out loud.

-

On the last day of summer practice, Bokuto treats Akaashi to convenience store ice cream. Bokuto buys strawberry for himself and chocolate for Akaashi. Bokuto remembers that because he always thought it was weird. Somebody like Akaashi seems more like the type of person to eat something really exotic, like mango or pineapple. Later, Akaashi admits that Bokuto's the first and only person to think his personality is that exciting, but for now Akaashi's eyes are narrow and intent at the expectant way Bokuto fidgets. "Is something the matter, Bokuto-san?"

"I'm a good senpai, aren't I?" Bokuto's intention is clear in his asking as he passes Akaashi a frozen treat. He waves it in front of Akaashi like a child begging for attention, attention that Akaashi is clearly not giving him. He holds it tauntingly in front of Akaashi's face, repeating way too loudly: "Who's the best senpai you've ever had? Who's the best senpai, huh?"

"Good senpais don't taunt their underclassmen," Akaashi says mildly, "but you are still the best I've ever had, I suppose."

Bokuto stills just enough for Akaashit to accept the ice cream. Acting unfazed, he rips open the treat and begins to lick at it. He steps out of the store with Bokuto following him quiet and loose like a zombie. It's only when they walk a block more that Akaashi asks, "Did I break you?"

"Just committing this to memory," Bokuto says seriously. He truly is: the way the sweat rolls down Akaashi's temple, the way the sun reflects in his eyes, the way Akaashi's tongue flicks at the ice cream. It's way too humid and way too bright, but Bokuto doesn't think there's ever been a day more perfect than that day Akaashi agreed he was the best upperclassman and licked melting ice cream off his fingers.

-

Later, after Bokuto recounts what he calls 'A Fateful Tale of a Setter and His Ace Senpai,' Akaashi will tell him, "if you're going to commit a moment to memory, at least make it an important one."

"It _is_  an important moment!" Bokuto will insist forcefully, his chest puffed out but his brow settled into a calm curve. It's his token pose of seriousness, unlike when he's being melodramatic. There's a particular glint to his eye, a particular timbre in his tone. "It's the moment I fell in love with you!"

"Don't be so embarrassing," Akaashi will say but he'll smile.

-

Bokuto's pleased at his progress over summer, but he's sad for the one week between Fukuroudani's summer training and the start of autumn term. Usually Bokuto couldn't be happier to not have school, but he can't help but feel something is missing in those seven days, something - or rather, some _body_  - 175 centimeters tall and 68 kilograms heavy. They haven't known each other for that long, but Bokuto finds himself texting Akaashi memes that make him laugh or pictures of owls winking.

"Lol, Bokuto-san," Akaashi texts back one time, and Bokuto holds his phone to his chest, smiling up at his ceiling with his back against his mattress, feeling lighter and happier about the two seconds it took Akaashi to type and send that message than any span of attention he's held in the past year.

-

Bokuto feels empty all through that first day of school and right until practice. Just standing on the court feels better, and Bokuto inhales as if he's smelling fresh air for the first time in weeks.

"Better?" Akaashi asks.

"I will be after hitting one of your tosses," Bokuto taunts. Akaashi smirks and sets a ball without warning.

-

A few days later, Bokuto attempts for a straight but it turns into a cross.

"It turned into a cross again!" Bokuto yells out loud and begins to fall to his knees. It's not a practice match, but it's the tenth spike in a row that has turned into a cross instead of a straight. He's supposed to be practicing _straights_ , not _crosses_. He already knows how to _cross_. It's his _straight_  that's going to win them Nationals this year. His _straight_  spike, not his _cross_! His--

"That's enough for today. Your straight spike was absolutely unusable," Akaashi says flatly, which feels like an arrow stabbing Bokuto's heart, before Bokuto's knees even hit the floor. "Next time try to spike straights. Everybody knows how to block your crosses already."

Bokuto's palms slap to the court floor, and it's only then he realizes how sweaty they are. Akaashi's already turned on his heel and headed toward the lockers, but Bokuto bites down his bottom lip, vowing to hit nothing but straights next time. He doesn't realize that he's not beating himself over in his head this time; his mind is focused solely on victory and improvement.

-

A month into classes, Akaashi bumps into Bokuto during his morning jog. The morning air is crisp, Bokuto's veins feel alive with the promise of the impending day, and when Bokuto looks at Akaashi, the sun is so bright that it shines right in his eye and blinds him. "You go for morning jogs too, Akaashi?"

"Yes," Akaashi says smoothly. He sounds neither tired nor energetic, unlike Bokuto. In truth Bokuto normally feels groggy in the mornings, but ten minutes into his morning run, his body feels alive with electricity. Akaashi continues to jog in place, his face shifting in contemplation. "I thought you for a night owl."

"No way! You know what they say: waking up early will bring good things to you!" Bokuto hoots gleefully, perhaps too loudly for the ordinary bustle of six in the morning. Instead he matches Akaashi's pace jogging in place in the awkward corner of what he later finds out is the intersection of their homes' streets. Before Akaashi can cock his head and point out the proverb doesn't mean what Bokuto literally assumes it to mean, Bokuto doesn't miss a beat, instead asking, "do you live around here too?"

"Yes," Akaashi says bluntly.

"Me too! Just down there." Bokuto gestures wildly down his street. Akaashi nods, even though later he tells Bokuto that he was unsure if Bokuto was pointing to the house just across the street, the one four doors down, or the tree at the end of the street. "We should go for morning runs together from now on! It's more fun that way, isn't it?"

"If you think it best, Bokuto-san."

"Yeah, it'll be awesome! We'll see each other every day!"

"We already see each other every day," Akaashi points out and presses forward before Bokuto can whine, "but I'm in your care."

Bokuto smiles brightly, his quip already forgotten. Akaashi wasn't blushing, but Bokuto always remembers Akaashi as blushing in that moment.

-

"Do you know if that first-year is seeing somebody? The one you're always hanging with, you know? An underclassman I'm friends with wants to know," one of Bokuto's classmates ask.

Bokuto isn't quite sure why, but the question annoys him. "How should I know?"

She shrugs, but it doesn't seem casual. Bokuto's not an idiot; he's seen how people act like this just to get something out of him, and he doesn't like it. It's not honest. "You're on the same team and you hang out with him a lot. So, do you know?"

"Ask Akaashi yourself," Bokuto huffs, pointedly _not_  thinking about who Akaashi may or may not like.

-

"Akaashi! Do you like anybody?" Bokuto demands in the middle of lunch. Everybody stops to tilt their heads in Bokuto's direction. Last year Fukuroudani VBC ate in a third-year classroom since only three starters weren't in third year, but now that most of the starters are in second-year, they've relocated. That means Washio's, Sarukui's, Konoha's, Komi's, and, probably more importantly, _Bokuto's_  classmates are looking right at them.

Akaashi's face remains expressionless, but Bokuto notices how the tips of his ears go red. When it's clear he's not getting an answer, Bokuto prompts again: "So do you!?"

"Let him eat his lunch," their captain interrupts, just as Akaashi clears his throat and is about to answer. Bokuto notices that Akaashi's neck and lips look redder than usual, even if his cheeks are free of a blush.

-

"Bro," Kuroo texts back, and even though it isn't in italics or capitalized, Bokuto reads it in his mind with emphasis, "I can't believe Akaashi would hypothetically be into somebody without telling you."

"INORITE," Bokuto texts back.

-

Bokuto's happy with his team, his friendships, and his grades. Only two of those three things are true. When Bokuto tells this to Akaashi, Akaashi instantly offers to tutor him.

"How did you know!?" Bokuto shouts as they walk toward their houses from the train station, shocked. It wasn't until years later when Akaashi admitted that he saw a report card in Bokuto's desk during a team lunch that Bokuto learned Akaashi was not in fact a mind reader.

-

"What's that?" Bokuto asks, halfway into biting a roll he bought for lunch, when Akaashi takes his usual position among the team, beside Bokuto, and whips out a textbook.

"We need to work hard to improve your grades before the next testing period," he says simply, book now opened to the first chapter and a notebook split open to a page holding handwritten formulas.

Washio stands up first. "Time to go."

Sarukui's next, scooping up his lunch. "Good luck, Akaashi."

Konoha, before sprinting away, adds, "Don't die, Bokuto."

Komi merely shakes his head, unsure whether he's shaking his head at Bokuto's or Akaashi's futility more.

Their libero, the only third-year that isn't their captain, opens his mouth to say something, but their captain claps him on the shoulder and pulls him away, shaking his head to not even try it.

"Shall we begin?" Akaashi asks, a small smile on his lips. Even though Bokuto dreads what's about to come, he feels sorrier for anybody on the opposite side of a net who has to see that smirk.

-

"I'm not that intimidating, am I?" Akaashi asks, tone flat but a glimmer of bewilderment in his eyes.

"I was totally freaked out!" Bokuto insists in a wail. Kuroo already has his palms over his ears to block out the noisy owl.

"It wasn't that scary," Akaashi says evenly, but his tone is unsure. Kuroo smirks and Akaashi frowns at him, knowing that Kuroo sees how transparent he is when it comes to Bokuto. "It was just introductory calculus."

Bokuto, however, is oblivious. His hands are in the air, then in his hair, and then he waves them dramatically. "Was too! I had a heart attack when I saw your notes! They were all color-coded and you had diagrams and everything! For _notes!_  I thought I was going to die!"

"That's hyperbole."

"I don't even know what that means!"

" _Aww_ ," Kuroo butts in, "you two are almost like a louder and less cuter version of me and Kenma."

Kuroo's been on the receiving end of Akaashi's smirk from the opposite side of the net, but it's nothing compared to Akaashi's glare off the court.

-

"We're finished for today," Bokuto announces, catching instead of spiking Akaahi's ball.

"I can go longer," Akaashi insists, but he's cut off by Bokuto holding up a palm and shaking his head before he can even say Bokuto's name.

"No. You have to let your body rest." Bokuto's tone is final and so strong that he won't accept dissent. "You're tired, aren't you? We can't risk you tearing a muscle now. Not when you're making me so awesome this year."

Akaashi holds his eye for two seconds. Then he nods. "We can't risk you missing a ball just because it wasn't set perfectly for you. Remind me to practice setting balls to you as if they weren't received perfectly."

Bokuto yells Akaashi's name as Akaashi walks off of the court.

-

Bokuto hands Akaashi a messy package on December 5th. It looks to be more of tape than wrapping paper, and the fact it isn't red, green, or silver suggests that it isn't a Christmas gift. Besides, it's too early for Christmas gifts. It's wrapped in Fukuroudani's colors, gold, black, and white, which might suggest--

"It's a birthday gift," Bokuto says, as if he knows Akaashi is already thinking too hard about it. He leans back and positions both hands on hips hips. He's wearing that smug smile, the one that keeps twitching as though the secret is about to burst out of him. "Open it up!"

"For me?" Akaashi asks, though it's redundant. 'I knew you'd feel bad if I gave you a present since you didn't get me one, but I wanted to do it anyway,' Bokuto tells him later. Akaashi rips through the tape and pulls out a black t-shirt with white letters screenprinted on it. 'I found this humerus' it says in English, with the bone beneath the saying. Akaashi looks up from the gift to where Bokuto's face and body are twitching, obviously anticipating some kind of reaction.

"This is an awful pun," Akaashi says matter-of-factly.

Akaashi says Bokuto yelled about how Akaashi was supposed to say how cool his present was and not make fun of it, but Bokuto doesn't remember that. What he remembers is Akaashi wearing it the next time they hang out.

-

"Akaashi! Akaashi! Look!" Before said setter can ask what the matter is, Bokuto shoves a piece of paper in his face. There's not a lot of outstanding grades on the mid-semester status, but none of the grades are failing either. "What did I tell you? Waking up early will bring good things to you!"

-

By the end of the year, Bokuto has an engagement with Akaashi for morning runs, passing grades, and a killer straight spike. He prays for more of the same during New Years when he goes to the temple with the team.

"I think I wished for something else too," Bokuto muses, tapping a finger to his chin when he tries to remember that day.

"Don't say it out loud or it won't come true." It's good advice, but Akaashi's looking away, unable to meet his eye, and fidgeting with his fingers in that way Bokuto always notices.

"Wasn't gonna!" Bokuto says while sticking out his tongue. That much is true, but only because he can't remember. His memory of that day is filled with visions of Akaashi's long fingers positioned together in prayer, puffs of smoke gathering around thin lips as hot breath tangles with evening chill, and dark eyelashes poised in concentration over rosy, chilled cheeks.

-

"Nobody ever calls me senpai!" Bokuto whines when the new year begins. He's over halfway through his second-year, and nobody on the team has recognized him as Bokuto-senpai despite his awesome spikes! "Akaaashi... Call me, 'senpai,' would you?"

"Hmm," Akaashi says thoughtfully, tilting his head at his upperclassman as he snaps off a block of ice fruit from a stick. He sucks the residue off the stick before pulling it out completely and sticking it into a pocket to discard later. Bokuto notices, and even though he's known Akaashi only for a handful of months, he knows Akaashi is the considerate type to hold onto his garbage before he can dispose of it properly. (It makes him feel guilty tossing his popsicle sticks now and he's started to hold onto his tissues as well, a judgemental, _'Bokuto-san,'_ ringing in the back of his head whenever he thinks about littering.) Akaashi's eyes sharpen on Bokuto, and he looks away finally. It's only then Bokuto realizes Akaashi was staring at him while dragging out a hum. "It's more satisfying to have first-years call you that when you're a third-year, isn't it, Bokuto-san?"

-

"I'm impressed," Bokuto says when Akaashi opens his locker to two love letters, several chocolates, and a note to meet in the second-year stairwell during lunch. "You're only a first-year and you already have admirers. Good job!"

Akaashi glances at the handful of chocolates and the small stack of letters in Bokuto's hands. Even though Bokuto said he was impressed, Akaashi remembers thinking that he was more impressed by Bokuto's optimism and praise of gathering a following, free of even the smallest hint of jealousy. That was a feeling Akaashi personally found himself unable to shake from his bones when he saw the proof of just how loved Bokuto was by everybody else sitting in the form of chocolates and love letters in his vice-captain's arms.

-

"I'm impressed," Akaashi says a bit more reverently, when Bokuto arrives on White Day with a handful of white chocolates to repay every one of his admirers from last month. Bokuto hands him a small bag of marshmallows and white chocolate chips even though Akaashi didn't give him one in February.

"They're homemade!" Bokuto says brightly. "I figure if people take time to show how much they appreciate me, I should do the same."

Akaashi could have said, 'this is completely unnecessary,' and it would have been true, but instead he quietly says, "thank you."

-

"You've been working out!" Bokuto says in approval when Akaashi continues to set hours into their individual practice. If Kuroo thought his straight was good during summer camp, he should wait to see what it's like now.

"I've built up my stamina," Akaashi agrees mildly, neither boastfully nor humbly. "I want to up my physical power levels a bit more."

"We'll be unstoppable," Bokuto responds a bit dreamily, unintentionally flexing in pride at his underclassman's improvement.

Akaashi doesn't disagree, but he does say, "let's perfect that straight spike."

-

Akaashi will ask innocently, "Do you remember when they announced you just missed the top three aces in Japan?"

"C'mon, don't say it like that, Akaashi! I sound so uncool!" Bokuto will say.

Without missing a beat, Akaashi will say, "It happened not long after the new year. We were beginning to prepare new strategies for Nationals when you received the official letter during practice."

The reminder will boost Bokuto's morale, and his cheeks will perk up, and he'll nod enthusiastically as if he remembers every detail. "They called me at my house later on to personally congratulate me too! The principal even praised me the day after, and he was always going on about, 'Bokuto-kun, fix your tie,' or 'Bokuto-kun, tuck in your shirt,' or 'Bokuto-kun, don't throw volleyballs at your classmates during individual study.'"

"That last one is probably wise," Akaashi will add, but Bokuto will wail back: "Okay, but he didn't have to make me go to extra lessons on the weekend for it!"

"Ah," Akaashi will say, right on time, "wasn't that because you were failing English?"

"Akaashi, how come you only remember stuff like that!?"

It's not the only thing Akaashi remembers, but he won't say that. The swelling tightness in his chest that was pride for his upperclassman upon hearing he was a top five ace is a memory he alone will treasure. He won't ever admit how he thought to himself that Bokuto's achievement will soon spread to other schools, which is perfect timing as the extra boost of confidence and intimidation their team needs for Nationals. Above all else, he will absolutely never share with anybody the memory of Bokuto's face and body, every pore strumming with life and happiness, fists clenched, teeth bared, back arched, voice loud, cheeks flushed, a vision of triumph, a radiation of hope and determination, perfection caught in physical form. That moment is Akaashi's alone to treasure.

-

Bokuto isn't like Akaashi, and Akaashi both loves and hates it. He loves how relaxed Bokuto is before a match. It's Akaashi's debut as part of Fukuroudani's team and his heart is pumping, but Bokuto is talking with members from other teams and walking around the Interhigh stadium as if he belongs there.

 _'That's because he does,'_ Akaashi reminds himself.

After Bokuto's finished high fiving Kuroo and shouting cries of rivalry to Itachiyama and other teams, he turns to Akaashi. He does something he's never done before; he tilts his head to the side and Akaashi almost laughs from how much Bokuto looks like their team mascot. (It's the first bit of relief he's felt all day and his lips curve into a smile against his will.)

"You okay?" Bokuto asks.

"Yes," Akaashi lies.

Bokuto cups his shoulder. It's so hard that it shakes Akaashi off balance and makes a clapping sound so loud that three teams turn their heads toward them. "You sure, Akaashi?"

"Yes," Akaashi says again, and this time it isn't a lie.

-

"We can win this," Bokuto says, nostrils flaring after the first point of the game is awarded to Fukuroudani, a quick between Bokuto and Akaashi perfectly executed.

"Duh," their captain says, "we destroyed this team last year."

Bokuto's eyes are set on the net but his vision reaches much further than that. Akaashi can tell. "No, I mean we can _win_  this. All of it."

Akaashi knows what Bokuto meant in the first place. He also felt it in his blood, coursing through his veins, singing into his skin the first time his set connects with Bokuto's spike in a game.

-

"What was your favorite part about your first time at Nationals?" Bokuto asks, grinning and waggling his eyebrows.

Akaashi knows what Bokuto wants him to say because he knows Bokuto's answer: Bokuto's favorite part of Akaashi's first time at Nationals is, as Bokuto says, "completion." Coming out of the mouth of anybody else, it might sound wise or even poetic. In truth, Akaashi's favorite part is also "completion" but it isn't the same as Bokuto's. For Akaashi, it's the sense of belonging, the sense of feeling whole, the sense of working as a single unit among comrades. For Bokuto, it's when his spiking arsenal became complete, the moment he became an unbeatable weapon.

"Whatever my favorite part was, it wasn't when you missed three serves in a row."

Bokuto and Akaashi both try to reframe their memories: Bokuto that his spikes made up for his serves and Akaashi that Bokuto's spike wouldn't be complete without Akaashi.

 _You were my favorite part of Spring Interhigh_ , they never say, but it's understood.

-

"Is it me or does it feel kinda chilly in here...?" Bokuto sighs. Everybody on the team can see it: the light isn't glistening in his eye, his mouth is set into a pout, and there's none of the tension in Bokuto's biceps that signals he's ready to do an incredible spike. Even his hair seems to have deflated.

The stands are mostly empty, it's late, and the entire team is antsy. It's understandable that Bokuto wouldn't be as excited to play for such a sparse crowd, yet Bokuto's mood suggests something deeper than mere disappointment.

"Number six," Akaashi mutters under his breath, teeth grit and fingertips beginning to fidget.

"What's that, Akaashi?" Konoha asks.

He shakes his head, internally reminding himself to add, 'an absolute show-off' to his growing list of Bokuto's weaknesses.

-

"Wait you already kept that creepy notebook about me by then!?"

"It's not creepy."

"You're avoiding the question!"

-

"Damn it, they're strong!" Bokuto yells out, but he doesn't sound discouraged at all. His eyes are wide, trained on the rival team's ace, who has the best curve spike Bokuto has ever _seen_. (Besides his own, of course.)

None of Bokuto's cohort shares his enthusiasm; Komi is sweating, Washio bites his bottom lip in worry, and Sarukui's lips aren't curved as they are usually, looking more like he ate a lemon than a playful monkey. Konoha's arm shakes as though he's unsure of how - if he can at all - spike the next ball that's set to him. Their libero is sweating from head-to-toe and even their captain wipes the sweat from his face in order to hide his sour expression.

"It's coming!" Bokuto yells out as the opposing team serves. Bokuto's call, although hardly rallying the team, alerts them enough to receive the ball, send it to Akaashi, and set it to Bokuto. They earn a point, and even though they're losing, Bokuto's smile is brilliant.

"Four ace serves!" Bokuto calls out. Before calling it out, it would have sounded ridiculous, but somehow the team believes it when Bokuto's the one who says it.

-

Akaashi only makes three ace serves, but it narrows the score enough to motivate the team to steal back three points and win the game.

-

"Send it to me!" Bokuto calls out, and even though he's not the captain, everybody on Fukuroudani feels that it's the right call. Akaashi sets the ball and watches it float. Time seems to stop. The perfect height, he thinks. The perfect ball, Bokuto thinks. The perfect score, Fukuroudani thinks. They are one.

Bokuto hits a straight as soon as his fist connects with the ball and the middle blockers jump up. Bokuto hits a straight and it connects with their arms, blows past it. Bokuto hits a straight and wins them a set point. Bokuto falls to the ground, arm still held in place when his feet touch the ground, still watching the spot he aimed for.

The stadium is quiet for exactly one moment before it erupts, crowds, Keiji, and all. Akaashi opens his mouth, clenches both fists, pumps them out, and yells louder than Bokuto can ever recall.

-

They place third.

They earn an honorary mention and it's good enough for magazines, for Fukuroudani's reputation, for team spirit, but it's not good enough for Bokuto's pride. He cries as their captain accepts the trophy for third place. Bokuto wipes the tears and snot from his face, eyebrows bent and twitching as Bokuto tries to front a proud face. "Next year... Next year we're _winning_."

"Yes," Akaashi agrees, before he's realized what he's agreeing to. He's also crying, expression matching Bokuto's.

-

Bokuto cries at the third-year graduation. There's a long line of admirers for their late captain and libero, but by the time Bokuto, Akaashi, and the rest of the team make it to their upperclassmen, Bokuto's cries have ebbed into snotty sniffles.

"I will carry this team to victory," Bokuto vows. His voice is surprisingly steadfast considering he was warbling out sobs for the past hour and lost most of his voice after singing the loudest during the ceremony and cheering both of his upperclassmen when receiving their diplomas.

Their upperclassmen both smile as if they expected no less, but it's their captain that claps him on the shoulder and says, "The number one jersey is yours now."

It's Fukuroudani's most revered number and recognizable to other teams as the team captain's number. Bokuto shakes his head.

"That number is yours. I'm Fukuroudani Academy's ace. I'm number four."

The resolve in his voice is final. Akaashi remembers how Komi joked, "well even if Bokuto gives up number one, I'll take your eleven," to their now graduated libero, but mostly Akaashi remembers the relief in his chest thinking of how his and Bokuto's numbers are still side-by-side.

-

"I couldn't believe you rejected his number just like that," Akaashi admits, still feeling shocked whenever he remembers it.

Bokuto rubs his chin like he's seen philosophers do in famous pieces of art. "Four is a better number for an ace, isn't it? It sounds like death, so it's kind of like, 'there's the killer ace!'"

Akaashi blinks at Bokuto and conveniently forgets that Bokuto ever said that; he much prefers the valiant and admirable Bokuto of his memory.

-

The first time Fukuroudani takes the court without their third-years, Bokuto steps onto it with new purpose. Akaashi knows it's probably a trick of his mind or romanticizing the past, but he swears Bokuto's shoulders looked broader, his gait stronger, and his biceps tenser. Even if somebody were to tell him it's all in his mind, Akaashi would fight them on the biceps, at least. Those were real. He wakes up to the proof every day.

-

"Let's aim for the best!" he instructs, as Bokuto leads his first match between Fukuroudani regulars and benched starters. It's different than when their old captain led the team, but the air is buzzing with Bokuto's energy and optimism in ways that rally both sides of the court. There's something completely unlike that of before when Bokuto pats them on the shoulders before breaking into their positions. It feels intimate, and it becomes the feeling that Akaashi associates with volleyball from that point onward.

-

"Calm down, Bokuto-san," Akaashi reminds Bokuto in between sets as Bokuto gulps water down so forcefully that everybody can hear him swallow and makes his way to the opposite side of the court.

"I _am_  calm!" he yells back, clearly not listening.

"It's early," Washio reminds him, but Bokuto still falls prey to the pressure and his emotions.

-

"To the left! Send it to the left!" Bokuto calls out. It's too late for anybody on his side of the net to do anything about it, and of course it gets passed to the right. Bokuto yells out a loud, "daaaaamn iiiit!" but it does nothing to redirect the ball in play. It falls on their side of the net, sounding far louder when it hits the ground than it did a mere two months before during Nationals.

Bokuto roars. He yells out loud and rages, spewing sounds that don't even sound like words and scratching at his hair. It doesn't score them any points, and it doesn't make the team listen to him any more than before.

-

"Am I even worthy of being captain?" Bokuto asks seriously, in the lockers, glaring at the towel laying limply in his hands. His fists are clenched, the soft terry cotton fabric is stretched as far as it can go, and he's two seconds away from crying again, Akaashi can tell. Both Bokuto's eyes and the towel are wet with his tears.

"What makes you think you're unworthy?" Akaashi asks sincerely.

"I'm a fake! Nobody listens!" Bokuto yells, voice cracking. He tries not to clench onto the cotton or let his bottom lip waver, but it doesn't help any. In the end, the towel rips and his bottom lip wiggles, childish and freely. "I shouldn't have ever been captain in the first place!"

"Stop it." Akaashi himself is surprised by how firm it sounds, but it shuts Bokuto up and keeps him from crying. It's enough to make Akaashi continue, now running on impulse alone, as wild and passionate as Bokuto himself. His fists are clenched in frustration, but he isn't crying like Bokuto is, no matter how humiliated he feels, being defeated by a team full of first-years and benchwarmers. "I will not let you pity yourself. If that's what you want to hear, then go somewhere else."

Bokuto opens his locker and throws the towel into it hard enough to make a loud bang even though it's made of soft fabric. His bottom lip doesn't quiver, but Akaashi's does when Bokuto slams his locker hard enough to make the two lockers next to it rattle from vibration. "I don't want to hear pity. You don't pity me and that's why I trust you, Akaashi."

It's the first time Bokuto pronounces Akaashi's name correctly, without inflection or exaggerating the vowels in his name, but Akaashi doesn't remember that.

"You don't lie to me. So tell me, will I make a good captain?" Bokuto asks seriously, in a small voice.

"Bokuto-san," Akaashi begins, throat tight, "there is nobody I trust more to lead Fukuroudani than you."

Akaashi nods at him, and Bokuto nods back, tears in his eyes but smiling.

-

They beat the first-years and benchwarmers by a wide margin the next time, but whenever Bokuto retells the story, they win in every match. "Didn't we lose the first time because we couldn't coordinate the remaining players effectively?"

"Don't spoil the mood!" Bokuto calls back, but he smiles, years later, crow's feet crinkling beside his eyes from smiling too hard.

-

Bokuto's third summer at Shinzen is his favorite. It isn't just because of Karasuno's weird first years and their crazy fast quick, and it isn't just because Nekoma's setter sets a total of _two_  balls for him after practice (which is a new record). Bokuto loves all the yelling for passes and the squeaks of volleyball sneakers on the gym floors and the constant hum of cicadas and heavy breathing of everybody doing their best. Mostly, it's the quiet moments of that camp he remembers and loves best.

When Bokuto closes his eyes and remembers that summer, it's not volleyball he remembers. It's nodding in silent agreement when Akaashi wordlessly pushes their futons together and looked up to him. It's stuffing as much rice as he can into his mouth after hours of relentless practice, only for Akaashi to pat his back and help dislodge the rice that got stuck in his throat from swallowing too quickly. It's waking up to the dim morning light and watching Akaashi's chest and shoulders rise and fall with every gentle snore, the cream-colored curtains distorting the sunlight that filters through his dark locks and crests over his face. It's watching Akaashi's eyelids twitch and his eyelashes tentatively bat and emerald eyes opening up to him and being close enough to see his face reflected in them. It's a calm voice asking, "would you like to go for our morning jog now, Bokuto-san?"

-

Bokuto remembers feeling funny when he goes back to school after his final summer training camp, but he can't think of why, even looking back. He and Akaashi texted all summer long. They met up to go to the movies. Akaashi even let Bokuto choose the most terrible one and frowned through the entire movie.

Bokuto spent his summer with all of the third-years, Akaashi, now his vice-captain, and the only first-year on the team, Onaga, who Bokuto remembers thinking has the strongest block out of any first-year in Tokyo.

So really, his summer was perfect. There was no reason why he should feel butterflies as he waited on the corner where Bokuto's and Akaashi's streets meet, playing a bubble shooter game on his phone until Akaashi arrives so they can walk to the station together. Bokuto blames school for being his last year and causing the swoopy, flippy feeling in his stomach, but it doesn't explain why the butterflies still flap their wings in his stomach years later whenever he looks at Akaashi.

-

This year, Fukuroudani VBC relocates to a third-year classroom for lunch. Saru and Komi are in the same class, so the team agrees to meet in class 2, even though Bokuto protests that as captain, they should meet in his.

"C'mon, back me up, Akaashi!" Bokuto says. He doesn't remember what Akaashi said, but he doesn't care, because anything Akaashi says was probably the right answer.

-

Bokuto remembers everybody holding their breath when he reached out to Akaashi and said, "got some on your cheek."

He remembers thinking they were weird for staring at him as he mindlessly licked the spare rice off his fingers.

He doesn't remember them ever letting go of their breath, but he remembers the way Akaashi let out a small, "oh," in exhale.

-

It's not even two months into the year when Saru and Komi's teacher kicks them out of the classroom during lunch. Something about taking too much room or being too loud or throwing food at each other.

"That's definitely not why we got kicked out of our homeroom for lunch," Saru says at a Fukuroudani VBC reunion. "It's because you and Akaashi kept staring into each other's eyes and it was making everybody uncomfortable."

"No, the food fight was real," Akaashi says, beside Bokuto, hand resting in the crook of Bokuto's elbow.

-

"Your hands are bigger than mine," Bokuto whines. He doesn't warn Akaashi before grabbing his hands and clapping their palms together. Bokuto frowns and wiggles the tips of his fingers against Akaashi's. Akaashi's stomach twists; a dejected mode must be coming, or else his stomach wouldn't feel so weightless and warm.

"My fingers are longer than yours because I'm a setter," he explains mildly, hoping that it's enough to sate his captain. "Yours are much thicker and better for spiking."

Bokuto's eyes narrow in concentration on their hands and his lip grows stiffer. Just as Akaashi thinks Bokuto's about to spiral into an emotional slump, Bokuto grins brightly and pipes, "Hey, you're right!"

Akaashi says nothing when Bokuto doesn't release his hand.

-

"Happy birthday, Bokuto-senpai," Akaashi says dryly, presenting a gift that is much more neatly wrapped than the one Bokuto gave Akaashi last year.

Bokuto's eyes widen, his jaw drops, and his shoulders shake. "You remembered me saying I want to be called senpai!?"

"It was hard to forget since you've been sighing about it since last year and keep hinting at the first-years to call you that," Akaashi says. He continues to hold out his gift and feels a little awkward now that Bokuto's only gaping and hasn't accepted it yet.

"So...what's that?" Bokuto asks, pointing dumbly to the package.

Akaashi's eyebrow twitches and his lips thin into a line. "It's your present."

"But," Bokuto trails off, confused. He accepts the gift but frowns at it, as though he's personally affronted by it or as though it just asked him to solve the missing degree of a right angle or as though it just farted. "I thought you calling me senpai _was_  my present."

-

"Wait, so you don't even remember what gift I gave you?" Akaashi asks later.

Bokuto hugs Akaashi, makes to kiss him, tries to pinch him, and when all of those distractions fail, he insists, "I _told_  you I thought you already gave me my gift!"

In truth, Akaashi doesn't remember what he gave Bokuto either.

-

"It's not fair!" Bokuto whines, "since you don't wear the present I got for your birthday either!"

Akaashi sighs as he pulls a number five jersey over his head, a jersey that matches Bokuto's for the first time since they graduated high school. "I'm wearing it, aren't I?"

"Those are mine," Bokuto says in the same way a child might say a parent ate their pudding. He bought Akaashi his own high kneepads so that Akaashi would _stop_  stealing his!

-

"This better not be another pair of high kneepads," Akaashi says, staring at the red and gold package in his hands.

"Yours isn't another shitty pun on a t-shirt, is it?" Bokuto counters, clutching Akaashi's green and gold package.

"Owl puns are classic and relevant," Akaashi says sharply.

"And my kneepads are cool!"

As it turns out, they both got each other an oppai hoodie from the anime they've been watching together.

-

Bokuto claps his palms together, lowers his forehead to the tips of his fingers, and hums loudly in concentration.

"Is something the matter, Bokuto-san?" Akaashi asks, opening his eyes just enough to glance at Bokuto out of the slit of his eyes.

"This is my new year's wish!" he explains loudly. Washio huffs and Saru rolls his eyes, both of them clearly not caring where this line of reasoning comes from, but Bokuto explains, "so I have to make it worth it!"

"You had four wishes last year," Akaashi reminds him, but the reminder does nothing to solve Bokuto's problem. Bokuto's eyebrows twitch while his eyes narrow in on each other, concentrating on his fingertips. Akaashi sighs and relents, "what's wrong, Bokuto-san?"

"I don't have anything to wish for!" Bokuto declares far too dramatically and all too loudly. Komi is starting to give him the stink eye.

"Wish for better grades...or a stronger spike...or anything else you wished from last year," Akaashi suggests. He claps his hands, done with his wish for the new year, one he'll keep privately to himself for months to come.

"A _kaaaa_ shi," Bokuto whines, drawing out the syllables of his name, "none of those wishes matter anymore when I have you already!"

Akaashi pauses, lets his breath change the cold air around his lips into clouds of condensation, and prays harder to the forces that just granted his New Year's wish. He hopes it isn't terribly selfish, but his fortune for the year said he would be very, _very_  lucky.

-

Akaashi tests just how lucky he is in February. Unsurprisingly, Bokuto is unfazed when Akaashi hand-delivers him a chocolate.

"For last year," he says, and although he doesn't say it's homemade like the one Bokuto gave him last year, he knows his effort isn't lost on his upperclassman.

Bokuto laughs, starting off slow and building into into the bubbling laughs when he's about to gloat. "Funny thing, Akaashi, I got you one too!"

-

"You and Bokuto... Is there anything you want to let us know?" Komi asks civilly.

"What would we have to say?" Akaashi asks, eyebrows furrowing. "Is there something I should know?"

"No, just...you and Bokuto are...y'know. You exchanged chocolates on Valentine's Day."

"And White Day," Akaashi corrects, though it's himself he ends up correcting, "to show our appreciation to each other."

" _Sure_ ," Komi says in the most mocking tone he can muster.

Akaashi's eyebrow twitches and he begins to frown. It's getting harder and harder to convince himself he means what he says. "I haven't an idea what you mean."

"I just mean...if you want to tell us anything, you know we'll be cool with it, right?" Komi looks at Akaashi expectantly. Something in Akaashi must disappoint him because he looks down and shrugs. "And I mean, it's nothing we don't already know...or suspect...so I mean, _anything_."

"There's nothing to tell," Akaashi says, somewhat bitterly.

-

"Really!? You _said_  that?" Bokuto balks during their tenth high school reunion.

"Nothing was going on between us at the time," Akaashi says honestly.

"How can you say that? I was already falling for you!" Bokuto shouts, though nobody looks their way because Bokuto's been shouting it for the past nine years and even if he hadn't, everybody called it back then anyway. A poll of Fukuroudani graduates would agree that the only shocking part of Bokuto and Akaashi's relationship is that they managed to last this long and were still going strong.

-

"Really!? You _said_  that?" Bokuto balks after Akaashi tells him that a third-year confessed to him but he rejected her. "But why?"

"It would be unfair to accept the feelings of somebody I didn't reciprocate feelings for," Akaashi says honestly. "You had a number of suitors, didn't you, Bokuto-san?"

"That's different!" Bokuto crosses his arms and looks away. Akaashi remembers only because Bokuto had been the first to look away only a handful of times. "I didn't have any interest in them!"

"Well I had no interest in this third-year either," Akaashi retorts, somewhat stubbornly, matching Bokuto's tone.

"' _This_  third-year'?" Bokuto echoes, and Akaashi swallows, hoping Bokuto doesn't finish what he suspects Bokuto will finish. As it turns out, he isn't as lucky as his fortune predicted. "Does that mean you're into another third-year?"

"It doesn't matter," Akaashi says. He turns, clutching the small stack of love confession letters to his chest and wishing he could just throw them away. But he can't do that; later he'll read each and every one of them and admire these girls for being brave enough to confess in a way he is too cowardly to do for the one he's grown to love.

-

"Nationals is right around the corner," Bokuto says nonchalantly.

As with everything, there is nothing ever nonchalant when it comes to Bokuto.

"Are you concerned?"

"No," Bokuto says. He looks to Akaashi and blinks. "Wait, that was a lie. Actually, there is. There's something really wrong."

"You want me to ask what's wrong, don't you?" Akaashi asks, though they both know by now that it's a rhetorical question. Bokuto is going to tell him no matter what he says and Akaashi wants to know anyway. "What's wrong, Bokuto-san?"

"It's all wrong," Bokuto says in a voice that sounds more broken than his usual gags, "because it's our last Interhigh together."

-

Drenched with sweat, Akaashi balls his fists and slaps the towel Bokuto was threatening to cry into out of his hand. "It's our last Interhigh together, but it isn't our last Nationals together."

-

Bokuto's voice is fragile and weak. "You promise?"

With all the ferocity and confidence Bokuto had when their captain passed the team to Bokuto, Akaashi answers, "I promise."

-

"I could tell you about Nationals," Bokuto says, years later after he's gone pro, "or you can read this." He shakes a Volleyball Times magazine in his hand wildly enough that it flaps, but his smirk is more conceited than usual. " _Or_  you could wait for the documentary about me that's coming up!"

"The documentary missed footage of how you forgot how to do crosses during the representative playoffs, didn't it?"

"Don't remind me!" Bokuto barks back, eyebrows bent and cheeks red.

"Then they definitely forgot--"

"Don't say anything about the Eiwa match either!"

"Anyway, your best bet is to read the magazine. Or ask that annoying dumpster cat," Akaashi says. Bokuto reaches for his hand and squeezes. Akaashi smirks at him through the side of his sight, squeezing back.

-

"That's when I realized your thirty-seventh weakness," Akaashi says, cutting into Bokuto's dramatic retelling of Fukuroudani's match against Nekoma to Kuroo. If left to his own devices, Bokuto might go on for an hour longer.

"I have that many!?" Bokuto squawks. Akaashi smirks, plan already a success. With Bokuto's attention diverted, the match is no longer Bokuto's concern.

"You do know that you don't have to remind me about that match, right?" Kuroo cuts in. "I was there."

Akaashi doesn't answer Bokuto's question and Bokuto's cheeks puff out. "Wait, you're not keeping that notebook still, are you?"

"Kuroo is a pain in the ass, but he's right. He was there, as was I, so you don't have to remind us of what happened."

"Wow, Akaashi, thanks. Feeling really loved, by the way."

"You're welcome."

"Hey, don't ignore me!"

-

"I graduate in a month," Bokuto says.

"I know," Akaashi says back.

"Aren't you going to say something to me about it?"

"What would you like me to say?"

"Anything," Bokuto says, too distracted memorizing the curve of Akaashi's face, the way his uniform fits a bit too snugly across his shoulders now, and the way Akaashi won't meet his eye.

"'Anything,'" Akaashi says back cheekily. It's just what Bokuto needed, and it makes him throw his head back and laugh.

-

Bokuto lingers a little bit longer. He clings a little bit closer. He clutches a little bit harder. The team doesn't seem to notice and neither does Akaashi, so everything must be alright. In truth, whenever he hugs his team during a group huddle, he doesn't want to let go.

-

"Are you sure it's a team thing, or is it an Akaashi thing?" Kuroo asks him over the phone one time, as they discuss their university plans.

Maybe's it's Akaashi's influence, but Bokuto counters back, "Does it matter?"

-

Bokuto applies to six schools. He receives six acceptance letters. All are winners of the All Japan Intercollegiate Volleyball Championship tournament within the past thirty years. All have offered scholarships to play volleyball.

"Hosei is in Tokyo," Akaashi says a bit hopefully. He realizes his error as soon as the words are out.

"They haven't won since 1995," Bokuto states back in a voice that sounds more like Akaashi's than his own, the letters fanned out in his hands.

Akaashi closes his eyes and tries to concentrate on anything else, but the only thing behind his eyelids is shadows of Bokuto in midair, spiking the balls Akaashi sets to him. "You'll make the right decision."

-

"I've chosen," Bokuto says.

Too long passes between them before Akaashi says, "Good luck, Bokuto-san."

Bokuto remains still and Akaashi leaves. There's nothing left to say.

-

"I thought that would be the last time you ever spoke to me," Bokuto confesses, hoarsely, voice barely above a breath, right against Akaashi's ear. His soft gray hair nuzzles against Akaashi's nose, and with a wet cheek pressed against Akaashi's, Bokuto admits, "I'm so glad it wasn't."

"It's mutual," Akaashi says, trying to pretend the wetness on his cheek is solely Bokuto's.

-

They don't talk until graduation day. Bokuto says Akaashi only showed up because the rest of the third-years were graduating, but he remembers Akaashi's voice the clearest throughout the ceremony and knows Bokuto's the only one Akaashi would ever be that loud for. Akaashi admits that he expected to be the one to cry this time, but Bokuto sheds enough tears for the both of them.

"I missed you so much!" Bokuto wails after the ceremony, clutching Akaashi in a hug.

Akaashi pats Bokuto's back stiffly, but his other arm snakes around Bokuto's waist until his hand settles comfortably on the small of Bokuto's back. "It's been three days."

"It's been three days too long!"

Akaashi can't argue with that.

-

On the day of Bokuto's graduation, two girls ask for Bokuto's second button after the graduation ceremony. Akaashi asks for his jersey number.

"You can't have it because that's my number, but you can have this," Bokuto says, handing over his second button.

-

Akaashi's been captain for exactly a week and Bokuto hasn't even met his university team when Akaashi sends him an invitation to watch a practice match between Fukuroudani and Nekoma.

"You're really on top of this," Bokuto says.

"Kozume-san and I agreed that we should use the tight bonds between Fukuroudani and Nekoma to foster friendly rivalry and camaraderie," Akaashi explains, as though he's been planning it for months. Heck, he probably has, considering it involves securing the gym, managing transportation, and ensuring equipment is ready. "Please come watch us."

-

"You're wearing the wrong number," Bokuto says after the game, neither surprised nor disappointed to see the number four on Akaashi's chest. Bokuto stuffs his hands into his pockets, his throat suddenly feeling tighter and his stomach feeling knottier than usual.

"No I'm not," Akaashi says with a hint of defiance in his voice as he wipes sweat off his forehead, conveniently letting the number show even more. Fukuroudani won, but only by a hair; their team is mostly first-years this year, Bokuto noticed, and they'll have to work hard to work together as a single unit. Bokuto will think about all that later, but for now, he's too preoccupied with squinting at Akaashi's chest.

"Yeah, you are. That's my number." There's a hint of longing in his voice, a hint of hope. He's already told Akaashi how he wishes the number is free on his new team. Four looks wrong on Akaashi. And yet, it looks so _right_.

"This is the number of Fukuroudani's ace and captain," Akaashi says simply, "and I wear it with pride."

-

If you ask Bokuto or Akaashi, the story of what happened after Fukuroudani and Nekoma's first match with Akaashi and Kenma as captains ends there. But the truth is that they remember it differently. They remember Bokuto grabbing Akaashi by the number and pulling Akaashi close enough that their chests bumped. They remember Bokuto saying lowly, "it would look better with high kneepads." They remember Akaashi saying, "if you think that looks good, you should see it while I'm wearing nothing else."

-

"You said, and I quote, 'that was the most romantic thing I've seen in my life, please tell me I can kiss you now.'"

"I didn't say that!" Bokuto protests. "I said, 'that was the most romantic thing I've seen in my life, please tell me I can suck your cock now!'"

"We agreed not to share that in public, Koutarou."

Kuroo sighs. "You guys. This is getting _really_  old."

-

Many kisses later, Akaashi reveals that he actually has earlier memories of Bokuto, memories before meeting him on that fated first day at Fukuroudani.

"It was always my intention to set for you," Akaashi confesses seriously. "In my last year of middle school, I watched you compete in Nationals. Your cross was amazing... I was truly impressed. But the other teams noticed it and kept blocking in the in the final matches." Bokuto winces, unhappy to recall his failings, as usual, though they both know he's a better player because of it. Akaashi shakes his head softly before Bokuto's mood can fall, raising a hand as if it will halt Bokuto's thoughts. "Let me continue. I knew that if you had a competent setter, you could learn to diversify your attacks and make the team stronger overall. I didn't count on you recognizing that straights were your weakness, since I saw that the rest of the team didn't support you, but when you told me that you needed to work on them, I knew you'd become unstoppable some day."

Bokuto watches Akaashi as he explains and takes a deep breath when Akaashi finishes talking. He squeezes his hands into fists, bunching the thighs of his pants into wrinkles, and gulps. "That's the best confession I've ever heard."

"It wasn't a confession," Akaashi says, a smirk on his lips.

-

"I knew you loved me before you told me," Bokuto whispers between kisses, teasingly, his lips just a hair away from Akaashi's. "Wanna know how I know?"

"How?" Akaashi asks. He's never been one for guessing what he can't figure out or categorize, but then again, that's always been what he's loved about Bokuto; no matter how well Akaashi thinks he knows Bokuto, he keeps finding ways to surprise Akaashi. It makes things interesting.

"This," Bokuto says, tugging at the number four on Akaashi's jersey. "Plus, that notebook of yours is still creepy but you have to love me a lot to keep track of me, right?"

"Hmm," Akaashi hums neither in agreement nor disagreement.

"So how many weaknesses am I up to now?" Bokuto asks in that deep voice that does _things_  to Akaashi.

"I can't say for sure," Akaashi admits. He sees Bokuto's expression fall and leans in to peck him on the cheek before it can crumble in on itself. He pushes his lips past Bokuto's until they're nearly pressed to his ear, whispering, "but I do know your biggest weakness now."

"Oh yeah?" Bokuto asks breathlessly. "What's that?"

Akaashi pulls away just enough to angle his lips over Bokuto's, not quite touching them. There's a glint in his eye and he's smirking, deciding best how to tease him.

However, it's Bokuto that takes him by surprise, connecting their lips in a chaste kiss. It's firm and wet and all too quick, a remnant of their younger days. "Just kidding! I already know it's you."

"As are you mine," Akaashi agrees, laughing until Bokuto swallows it down with a kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> feel free to hmu on [tumblr](https://90stimkon.tumblr.com/) or [twitter](https://twitter.com/cloneboys), or [consider commissioning me](https://90stimkon.tumblr.com/post/162750545663/commission-me)!


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